Thursday, 5 July 2007

Volume 10

Not as in the 10th volume of literary work (you’ll be relieved to hear) but as in the volume at which my telly now seems to be set. I’m not sure when it started but without the volume set at Old Git level, I have real trouble hearing anything at all. I suspect it’s my hearing although at times my conspiracy gene kicks in and I think the powers-that-be are trying to con me into taking some very expensive hearing tests.

The irony is that despite my aural difficulties with the television, I can hear an over-loud MP3 player at fifty paces in a noisy tube carriage or some drunk half a mile away stumbling over a misplaced rubbish bin.

And when it comes to babies on planes, it doesn’t matter how far away I’m sat - I can hear with way too much clarity every last cry. Particularly when it’s 3am and I’m trying to coax myself into some alcohol-induced sleep.

Which is kind of idiotic because in watching a film to fill the time between the drinks trolley making its rounds, I’ve had the volume set at level 10.

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